


That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

by Das_verlorene_Kind



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: (Fake) Date, Be My Peterick Valentine, Bisexuality, M/M, coming to terms with your sexuality isn't always easy, or at least that's what Pete believes it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_verlorene_Kind/pseuds/Das_verlorene_Kind
Summary: Tired of having his sexuality doubted again and again, Pete thinks of a foolproof plan to prove once and for all that he's not into men: He's going to spend the most romantic day of the year on the most romantic date with a cute guy, and absolutely nothing will happen.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Be My Peterick Valentine 2021





	That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and happy Valentine's day!  
> I hope you're all doing as well as anyone can be in times like these. 
> 
> Thanks to Snitches for all her support and beta-reading!
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the fic!

It all starts as a regular, boring February day that promises to be no different to any other day. Outside, winter paints the sky gray and the ground white. Inside, Pete sits in the teacher’s lounge, which is warm and comfortable and offers good company. While Pete loves working with kids, he also enjoys holding an adult conversation once in a while. 

Which is why he is hanging out with Joe, local Math teacher, and one of their newer colleagues.

Patrick Stump is their local music tutor, and he only just started this semester. He’s only here for two days a week, so Pete doesn’t get to see him too often. He’s nice though, and the more he and Pete talked, Pete has learned that Patrick is also very witty, quite snarky, and very opinionated, if not stubborn to some extent. 

Pete assumed he had used up all his luck for workplace friendship with Joe, but he does hope to become friends with Patrick as well. 

Joe leans back in his chair, lets out a sigh, and asks the inescapable question Pete has been dreading. “Well, any romantic plans for the weekend?”

Pete doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t have any plans - he’s going to be all alone for Valentine’s Day. It’s been a couple of months since Ashlee broke up with him, and at first, Pete had been too heartbroken, and since then, Pete hasn’t had much luck with dating.

Pete glances at Patrick. The other thing he learned about the new music tutor is that Patrick is openly gay. Not that Pete cares or anything. It’s just a neutral fact. 

Patrick makes a face, fiddles with his glasses. “No. I’ll just have a quiet evening in.”

Pete’s surprised that an objectively cute, talented guy like Patrick doesn’t have a date. Then again, Pete’s all alone as well. “You’re such a charming guy, and you have a lot to offer. Someone is missing out on you,” he says to Patrick, because he’d say something encouraging to his straight friends as well. Besides, Pete doesn’t need to be gay to see the truth in his statement.

Flustered, Patrick lets out a nervous chuckle. “Well, uhm, thank you. What about you guys?”

“I don’t have any plans either,” Pete says with a shrug. Patrick looks at him, and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something; he doesn’t, and instead, Joe (who’s shot Pete a funny look that Pete decided to ignore) tells them all about his plans for his date with Marie. Pete is only somewhat jealous, even though he’s very much happy for Joe. 

“Sounds like fun,” Patrick says when Joe is done, and he sounds honest, like he really means it. Pete likes that Patrick can be genuinely happy for his friends, even if he doesn’t have the most perfect date planned himself. It looks like Patrick wants to say something again, but once more, he only subtly shakes his head, as if to rid himself of the thought. 

“Speaking of fun, I’m afraid I have to get back to work.” The way Patrick smiles when he says that makes it clear he isn’t being serious. He likes his job, Pete knows, and as far as Pete heard from his students, they all love the new music tutor. 

Pete, lost in his own thoughts, watches as Patrick leaves. He’s torn out of his vague daydreams about friendship when Joe speaks up again. And Joe says the words Pete has heard so often in his life, in various forms, in various levels of friendliness to outright hostility, from friends to strangers to his sister: “C’mon. You’re totally gay for him.”

And Pete gives the answer he’s always given, time and time again. “I’m not gay for Patrick. Or anyone else for that matter.”

It’s a discussion he’s had more than once in his life. Pete knows it’s bullshit; he isn’t gay. He likes women, always has, and has never doubted his attraction to them. He’s had his lovesick teen romances, disastrous high school affairs, the college scandals, he _loves_ women. Yet no matter how many flings or even how many serious relationships he’s had, people still want to put a label on him that Pete simply knows is wrong. He likes women. He’s not gay, he can’t be.

“I like Patrick because he is nice. And I only appreciate men _aesthetically_ ,” Pete tries to explain, though he really doesn’t feel like arguing with Joe. “Like I appreciate the beauty of nature. The scent and shape of flowers. Good music. A wonderful poem.” 

Joe only raises his brows, but Joe is a mathematician who doesn’t really appreciate any sort of art, so what does his opinion count?

Certainly tired of this fruitless discussion, Joe suggests: “Are you sure? Did you ever try it out?”

Instead of his usual answer - _yes, I am sure, and no I didn’t, because I’m not actually gay_ \- a plan forms in the back of Pete’s mind. He hesitates while Joe looks at him with growing curiosity.

Sure, Pete has fooled around a bit, hasn’t everyone? There was a kiss with Tommy, a childhood friend, because there were no girls to kiss at boy scout camp. There was also some semi-drunk making out at parties throughout highschool and college, but that was just for the thrill of it, and everyone was a little heteroflexible at college. Nothing more than fleeting moments, a little action above the belt, nothing that really counts as gay in Pete’s opinion. 

Perhaps, that’s the problem - Pete hasn’t tried it out for _real_.

“Yeah. You might have a point there. I should try it out, just to prove once and for all that I’m not into guys.” Now that Pete says it out loud, it actually sounds quite reasonable. “And you’ll see. I’m going to spend the most romantic day of the year on the most romantic date ever, and nothing will happen at all.”

“And who are you going to take on a date?” Joe raises his hands in defense. “Because, uh, not me, dude. I already have a date, and I’m very much straight.”

It’s Pete’s turn to roll his eyes. Sure, Joe is a decent looking dude, but Pete couldn’t ever think of him as more than a friend. Not to mention, they’d be totally incompatible, anyway. “Pff, you wish, Trohman,” is Pete’s reply - okay, Joe probably doesn’t, but still. Luckily, Pete already has someone in mind, a brilliant idea that just struck him. “I’m going to ask Patrick.”

Joe gives him a thoughtful glance. “Huh. You sure didn’t need to think about that for long.”

Of course, Joe doesn’t understand when really, it’s the most logical thing to do. 

“Look,” Pete talks slowly and with more patience than he expected, “he’s the perfect choice. He’s gay. I know him already so I know he’s not like, a creep or a serial killer, we get along well so it won’t get too awkward on the date. And he looks good, but y’know, in a normal, approachable way - I mean, everyone would be gay for someone like Chris Evans, right?”

Again, Joe shoots him one of these funny looks. “No. I wouldn’t.”

Pete takes a deep breath. This conversation is draining him. “Whatever. I’m going to ask out a perfectly nice gay guy for the most romantic Valentine’s day date ever, and I promise you, absolutely nothing is going to happen. Because _I_ am not gay.”

And while Joe doesn’t look convinced, Pete feels very excited about his foolproof plan.

After class, Pete goes to find Patrick to ask him out. He finds Patrick in the music room, hears him even before he sees him, the soft piano notes bringing a smile to his lips. Patrick often likes to stay a little longer, when everyone else is gone and silence accompanies his music. Pete’s music knowledge might be limited to his teenage attempt at bass playing and basic guitar skills, but what Patrick is playing sounds beautiful to him. 

“Don’t mind me, keep going,” he says when Patrick, who has noticed him entering the room, stops. 

Patrick looks a little nervous. “I’m just messing around.”

Still, when Pete nods encouragingly, Patrick continues. Music floods the room, and Pete closes his eyes, lets it flow through his body. When Patrick is done, Pete opens them again, sees Patrick blush as he claps. 

“That was wonderful.” 

Although Patrick squirms a little when he’s being complimented and blushes even further, he mumbles a “thanks”. 

Silence follows, and now, it is Pete who feels nervous. He pushes his worries aside - after all, this isn’t a serious romantic date, it’s just going to be the date to prove he’s not gay. Nothing can go wrong. They’re going to have a nice time, and Pete will walk away as the heterosexual man he is. 

Pete gathers all his confidence, and puts on his most charming grin. “Hey, Patrick, I - well, I actually came here to ask you something. Do you want to be my date for Valentine’s day?”

Patrick blushes even further, his cheeks a deep pink now; it looks cute. Objectively cute. Pete could get used to making Patrick blush. Then, he breaks into a big smile. Pete could get used to making him smile. 

“Yes,” Patrick answers softly, “yes, I’d love to.”

“Fantastic!” Pete blames the happiness he feels on the prospect of the relief he’ll experience soon - this will finally, once and for all, prove to himself and everyone else he’s definitely not into guys, and end decades of doubt. “Are you alright with going out for dinner? Maybe going to a movie? I’ll find us something nice. You should give me your number, and I’ll text you all the details, okay?”

Dinner and a movie are a classic first date. Pete isn’t sure if that goes for gay dates, too, but Patrick agrees to dinner, gives Pete his number, and Pete vows to himself to make this the absolute most perfect date ever. It has to be. How else can Pete be sure he’s tried everything just to make sure there’s not a spark of gayness in him? 

Besides, Patrick is a lovely dude, and Pete wants him to enjoy this date. Pete might not be gay, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do romance. 

That’s why in the coming days, Pete spends a lot of time thinking about their upcoming Valentine’s day date. He’s sent Patrick a dozen texts already, inquiring about his favorite food to find the perfect restaurant, his favorite movies to pick the perfect cinema experience, his favorite flowers for the perfect bouquet, his favorite color so Pete knows what to wear, his hobbies and interests so Pete knows what to talk about. It’s been going surprisingly smooth, even though Patrick is a guy. He’s easy to talk to, and Pete is actually looking forward to having a fun conversation with him over a nice dinner. Even if it’s going to be platonic - after all, Pete has been friends with guys all his life, many of which he’s never felt an ounce of attraction to, so why should Patrick be any different?

He’s only had a moment of doubt once, when he realized that Patrick agreed to the date without much hesitation. Patrick is gay, does that mean he can identify other gay men, and that’s why he agreed? Is Pete not straight enough? After some confusing late-night internet research that doesn’t bring any answers, Pete just decides that the whole gaydar-thing is probably just a pop culture myth, and that it’s simply his charming smile and good looks that made Patrick agree. And it’s difficult to tell the difference anyways. Patrick doesn’t look like Pete imagined a typical gay guy to look like either. Or perhaps, that’s just Pete’s inexperience with gay men? Or a homophobic prejudice?

In the end, Pete decides to drop the thought. After all, it’s going to be Pete himself who decides if he’s gay (and Pete is most certain that it will be a _no_ ), no matter what Patrick or anyone else says.

Instead of further worrying, Pete manages to get a table at a nice Italian restaurant that offers a great vegetarian menu. There’s no movie that either of them is particularly interested in, so Pete decides to take Patrick to a darling little record store instead. There’s a romantic little park for a nice and quiet walk neaerby, and afterwards, if Pete still hasn’t had his heterosexual epiphany, they can still go back to his place and see where the evening goes. 

When Valentine’s day comes, Pete is dressed in the perfect outfit (which has taken him quite a while to choose, but only because he doesn’t know how to dress for a gay date), he is armed with a small but beautiful bouquet of red roses (sure, it’s a lot for a first date, but Pete is going for all or nothing), and is currently standing in front of Patrick’s door to pick him up for dinner. Hand raised, he’s ready to knock, and yet he hesitates. He’s nervous, and he doesn’t know why - this isn’t a real date, is it? 

Pete takes a deep breath. He can do this. And afterwards, he will be cured of all doubts for the rest of his life, and what a welcome relief that will be! 

When Patrick opens the door, Pete takes a moment to look at him. And as someone who appreciates men in an aesthetic way, Pete can no doubt say Patrick looks fantastic. He’s wearing his usual fedora, glasses traded for contacts (though Pete thinks his glasses do look quite charming on Patrick). The blue of his shirt compliments the blue of his eyes, and his jeans hug his legs in all the right places. Pete tries not to stare, he’s pretty sure that’s rude regardless of whatever parts a person has in their pants, and besides, it’s none of his business and he totally doesn’t care. 

“Hey there. You look good,” Pete says, because, Patrick _does_ look good, and paying a neutral compliment that’s merely stating the truth can hardly be homosexual. 

Pink spreads over Patrick’s pale face, accompanied by a sheepish grin. “Thanks, so do you.” 

That Pete’s heart skips a beat can merely be blamed on the fact that everyone likes to be flattered, regardless of gender or sexuality. 

“Aw. You didn’t have to,” Patrick says when Pete hands him the flowers, but the smile on his pretty lips belie his words. “Let me find a vase, and then we can go.”

The leather jacket and scarf that Patrick puts on do look good on him as well. Yes, Pete thinks he really made the right choice in asking out such a cute guy. If he can brave through this and not feel any sort of attraction, he’s definitely straight. 

The restaurant Pete picked out is small but cozy, and decorated with flowers and heart-shaped balloons. They have a vase with a red rose and candles at their table. Just enough for some semi-ironic kitsch, but not so much it’s overbearing. Which surely is why Pete soon only has eyes for the man in front of him. 

Their conversation goes smoothly, and even the silence between them feels comfortable. Patrick listens carefully, and though initially way more nervous than Pete has seen him during their regular conversations at school, Patrick soon relaxes, laughs, jokes, they can both talk about serious topics as well as exchange sarcastic remarks. Being a first date, conversation isn’t too heavy, but Pete enjoys talking to Patrick a lot. 

“How do you like working at our school?” Pete asks. “You’re pretty good with the kids, they all love you.”

Patrick chuckles, clearly very happy to hear that. “Well, I love music, and I love working with kids. I love being able to share my passions with others. I’m happy that’s appreciated.”

“Yeah, I share those noble goals. Most of the time, at least.” Pete winks at Patrick, which is perhaps half joke, half a flirtatious gesture - Pete is still here on a mission, after all. “Sure, sometimes I just have to make sure to teach the boring necessities, and not all students share my love for poetry and literature, but… It’s amazing to be able to inspire people.”

Patrick agrees, and their conversation continues smoothly. So far, this isn’t nearly as awkward or weird as Pete assumed it would be. It’s just… Almost like a regular date. Except with a guy.

When they’re done eating, they decide to split dessert, and Pete tries not to stare at Patrick’s mouth while he eats, when he licks the ice cream off his spoon. Patrick has a nice mouth, with beautifully shaped lips in a tempting shade of pink, which is just basic biology. It’s just a very pretty mouth, aesthetically speaking, like a work of art, without any sexual implications or preferences behind that. 

“This is delicious,” Patrick declares around a mouthful of ice cream, and Pete simply nods, averts his eyes from the stupid spoon near Patrick’s lips. It’s silly to obsess over such a little thing, he has to focus on the big picture, has to focus on being a normal person, has to focus on making this the most romantic date ever, to make sure he never has to think about any man’s mouth ever again. 

“Don’t you want any?” Patrick’s question tears Pete out of his thoughts. He realizes he is clutching his spoon in his hand, without having eaten a bite yet. 

Yes. Yes, Pete wants, ah, he wants - he needs to focus, he wants ice cream. “Oh yeah, I do want some,” Pete declares, trying to sound like a normal person on a normal date. And before he can stop himself, Pete finds himself smiling, finds himself winking at Patrick again as he adds: “I _love_ sweet things.”

Either Pete’s brain is lost in utter confusion, or he’s a better actor than he ever thought himself to be. Pete isn’t sure which one it is, and he also isn’t sure why Patrick’s reaction - rolling his eyes as if to disregard Pete’s silly little line, yet smiling back with so much warmth in his eyes - makes his heart skip a beat. It doesn’t make any sense, so Pete tries not to think about it, and instead, digs into the ice cream. And perhaps, he catches a shy gaze from Patrick, just a little glimpse as Pete deliberately takes his time to lick some stray ice cream from his fingers. Well, Patrick is actually gay, after all, so that’s not surprising, unlike Pete’s reaction to it, which is the immediate urge to do it again, keep Patrick’s eyes fixed on him, send him a sultry smile and maybe even reach out to lick over Patrick’s own sticky-sweet fingers, just to see what happens, just to hear maybe a little moan.

Pete doesn’t do any of that. Obviously, it’s just his inner attention whore that needs approval, and Patrick just so happens to be the only person in close proximity to offer that. It’s just a coincidence, because they’re on this date, really, it’s not related to Patrick being a man. It’s just morbid, destructive curiosity and Pete needing attention. Not Pete’s favorite part of himself, so he forces himself to put on an innocent, neutral expression and throw in some small talk to keep them both distracted from disastrous dessert thoughts. 

The roles aren’t really clear now that he’s on a date with a dude. Does Pete have to pay for dinner? He asked Patrick out, after all. Or does Patrick pay? Is it offensive to ask? Luckily, Patrick simply suggests they split the bill, which Pete happily agrees to. 

On their way to the record store, Pete walks close enough to Patrick that their hands brush against each other from time to time. It is cold, and it has started to snow, but Pete barely notices any of that. They talk about music, and Pete listens with a grin as Patrick gets more and more worked up as he enthusiastically, if a little bit pretentiously, tells Pete all about his favorite artists and important albums and songs that shaped his life.

Much to Pete’s relief (only because this is supposed to be a great date for research purposes), he’s made the right bet - Patrick is instantly in love with the little record store. The joy in Patrick’s expression makes Pete’s heart do weird things again, which just has to be the pride he takes in his great dating skills. 

Pete isn’t at all surprised to hear that Patrick is a big fan of vinyl, and owns quite a large collection. He’s treated to a lengthy debate about the pros and cons of different media for music, whether convenience and accessibility outweigh sound quality and nostalgia, and Pete finds himself quite enjoying their talk. As opinionated and stubborn as Patrick can be, he’s also thoughtful, passionate, and willing to listen to Pete’s arguments (even if they don’t agree about everything). 

“Come on. The Smiths are just a classic.” Pete points to the neatly organized vinyls, with the familiar faces of the band and the singer whose posters once decorated his room. 

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Morrissey is a giant, arrogant idiot.”

“Yeah, sure.” Pete shrugs, then makes a vague gesture towards the other shelves. “To be fair though, if we judged music like that, they’d have to throw out half the shop's inventory.”

It looks like Patrick has a whole lot of thoughts on this issue, and Pete is ready to pull whatever argument he can still remember about the death of the author and separating art from artists. For now, Patrick doesn’t elaborate, simply leans in to browse through the records. Well, Pete is looking forward to bringing it up again in the future, he enjoys talking about art, he very much enjoys talking about art with Patrick, he very much enjoys talking to Patrick, period. Which is simply because Patrick is smart and shares his interests and even if at the end of this date, Pete will have his heterosexuality confirmed, that doesn’t mean Patrick and he can’t be friends. Yeah. Being friends with Patrick sounds good. That’s definitely what Pete wants. 

Pete tries not to think about what, or if, he wants anything else. He goes for something much easier instead as he reaches out to grab one of the vinyls with a very familiar cover - _The World Won’t Listen_.

“Good choice,” Patrick comments despite his earlier quip.

Pete grins. “Glad you think so, because I very much intend to make you listen to it, if just to prove my point.”

“Ah. The point being…?” Patrick inquires, and Pete isn’t sure what the point exactly is, he just knows that hanging out with Patrick and listening to good music sounds like a wonderful thing. Luckily, Patrick doesn’t ask again, so Pete doesn’t have to think about coming up with an answer, and luckily, Patrick doesn’t object to listening to the LP with Pete, which is great, because - just _because_. 

  
  


Outside, nighttime has taken over, and the city’s lights illuminate the dark, cloudy sky and make the freshly-fallen snow glitter. 

They’ve had dinner, they went to the record store, it’s getting late and Pete is no closer to his goal and he isn’t quite sure what to do. The park, yes, he remembers the park nearby, and Patrick agrees to go for a walk, but as they walk through the snowy park, the mood has shifted to slight awkwardness. 

Pete’s heart is beating so hard it hurts. He hasn’t expected to be this nervous, because this isn’t a real date, this shouldn’t be so difficult, and yet he finds himself utterly confused and close to a nervous breakdown. The silence between them is tense, heavy with unsaid words and insecurity. Do they just bid goodbye to each other? No, Pete can’t have that, he’s not yet fully convinced, he hasn’t done everything yet to prove he’s straight, he can’t half-ass his one chance to not have depressing self-doubts for the next few decades. 

No, this is still a date, Pete wants to, no, he _needs_ to do something that people out on a romantic date would do. Before he can overthink his foolproof plan, he’s already done the first thing that came to mind, which is sneaking his hand into Patrick’s. Only because this is what people out on a date do, not because he wants to hold Patrick’s hand for any other reason. Patrick shoots him a quick glance, before he looks away again, the parts of his face not covered by his hat or scarf a bright pink. But he doesn’t object to holding hands, quite the opposite, he squeezes Pete’s hand in a reassuring gesture, and then laces their fingers together. 

“So much snow,” Patrick remarks casually, as if they weren’t two guys holding public in hands like a couple, “always reminds me of being a kid. The excitement, the snowball fights, building a snowman… Simpler times, you know?”

Oh yes, simpler times. How much Pete craves those. Fuck, how much he really longs to go back to when he didn’t have to worry about holding hands with anyone, when labels or love wasn’t anything to be concerned about. It doesn’t seem appropriate to tell that to the guy he’s currently cozying up to, so instead, Pete says: “We can still build a snowman. Who’s gonna stop us?”

Patrick hesitates, and Pete almost regrets his childish suggestion, especially when Patrick lets go of his hand which causes equally confusing emotions as holding hands with him in the first place. “You’re right,” Patrick answers as he kneels down to scoop up some snow, “no one can stop us, hm? We can do whatever we want.”

Patrick’s smile is as blinding as the glittery white snow around them. Pete smiles back as he kneels down next to him. “Yeah. We can do whatever the fuck we want to.”

As silly and sentimental as it might be, building a snowman ends up being a lot of fun and laughter. There’s just something magical about Patrick that makes Pete forget all his worries, and none of the former awkwardness or insecurity is present anymore. The snowman doesn’t end being very big, but he does look like a proper snowman. Pete snaps a quick picture of it, and even convinces Patrick to do a selfie together with him and the snowman. 

“Yup. It’s really cute,” Pete decides after eyeing the finished snowman one last time, then he turns to Patrick again. “Not as cute as you, but still cute.”

Pete really doesn’t mean to like, _flirt_ -flirt in a serious way, he’s just _experimenting_ here because he’d make the same jokes if he were out on a date with a girl. Strangely enough, the rush he feels when Patrick chuckles at his words is just the same Pete feels when he’s flirting with a woman. God, Pete cannot keep being romantic with Patrick if all it gets him is more confusion instead of a straight answer. This is _not_ what he’s here for. 

In an attempt to distract himself from more complicated thoughts, Pete reaches out to form a little snowball with his hands. “The snowball fight is all that’s missing.” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” Patrick says, even though he too reaches out for a handful of snow. There’s something tempting in his voice, something playful, something Pete would like to hear again, perhaps in a different context… 

For now, Pete decides it’s safe to give in to temptation, and a moment later, his snowball hits Patrick’s shoulder. Pete barely has time to laugh, before Patrick’s snowball hits his chest. 

There are more snowballs, there’s yelling and laughter, and Pete can’t remember the last time he’s felt this carefree and joyful. Just what is it about Patrick that makes him feel this way? 

After a while, Patrick holds up his hands in defeat. “We need to stop,” he declares not without regret. “It’s been fun, but I’m freezing, and I don’t want either of us to catch a cold.”

Pete nods in agreement, and Patrick sends him a pensive gaze that Pete isn’t quite sure how to interpret. Patrick takes a deep breath, straightens himself, and says: “My apartment is just around the corner. You wanna come with me? We could warm up, have some hot chocolate, maybe listen to the LP you bought?” 

Pete doesn’t have to think twice about his answer. “Yes. Yes, that would be awesome…”

Half an hour later and Pete is tucked in a blanket on Patrick’s couch, warm and cozy. He’s wearing one of Patrick’s hoodies while his own is drying on the heater. Pete has caught how Patrick looked at him when he changed into it in front of Patrick, seen how Patrick had eyed his tattoos and abs and bit his lip before looking away again. Pete doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, and he knows even less why he’s disappointed that he doesn’t get to see Patrick undress in front of him. It’s not like he’s never seen a (semi-) naked guy, so what should be different about Patrick? 

True to his words, Patrick is actually making them some hot chocolate right now. Which seems so nice and innocent, Pete doesn’t know what to make of it. Somehow, Pete thought that a gay dude would be a little more… Upfront? Aggressive? When it comes to sex, at least. Maybe, that’s for the second date. Or Patrick is just shy. Or maybe, Pete is just wrong. How would he know, _he’s_ not gay. He doesn’t even really _want_ Patrick to do anything sexual, he only wants Patrick to look at him with lust or touch him with desire to finally know, once and for all, that it’s not, that it can’t be what Pete _really_ wants. 

When Patrick comes back into the living room, he hands Pete a mug, and places his own on the coffee table. Pete watches as Patrick fumbles with the record player, studies the shape of his profile, the pink plush of his lips, the shape of ass; does it make him feel something? Fuck, Pete isn’t even sure anymore. 

When he thinks of women, when he thinks of tits and lipstick-stained kisses, when he thinks of soft, smooth thighs and what’s between them, he feels the same sense of arousal as always. So what the fuck is the attraction he feels when the looks at Patrick?!

Pete doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything anymore, and that’s not why he asked Patrick out on a date, that can’t be the answer to sleepless nights and years and years of self-doubts, it just can’t be. 

When music floods the room and Patrick sits down next to him on the couch, Pete tries to shove his worries aside. 

It feels like the most natural thing to casually extend his arm, and when Patrick follows the not-so-subtle invitation and leans into an embrace, it feels like the most natural thing to pull him closer. When Patrick chuckles, it feels like the most natural thing to smile, and when he gently puts his hand on Pete’s cheek, it feels like the most natural thing to lean into the touch. 

And when Patrick kisses him, it feels like the most natural thing to kiss him back. 

Patrick’s lips are so soft, just like Pete imagined them to be. Encouraged by the kiss, Patrick’s hands wander down from Pete’s face over his chest, down to his hips, and Pete thinks he needs to know how they feel on his bare skin, he burns with the longing to be touched, just to see what it’s like. So when Patrick finally slides his hand under Pete’s shirt, Pete moans encouragingly. 

Pete waits for the moment when it’s finally enough. After all, he’s _kissing_ a man, and he’s being _touched_ by a man, and this should be the moment his brain decides the experiment is over, that he’s tried everything and finally reaffirmed he’s not actually gay. This should be the moment Pete wants to stop, the perfect moment to gently push Patrick away, excuse himself and say that he’s had a wonderful time, but this isn’t working out (because Pete isn’t gay!), and then Pete should go home and forget about all this. 

The problem is, stopping is the last thing Pete wants to do. Pete’s aching chest makes it hard to breathe, and he tenses up in Patrick’s arms. The horrifying, the impossible, and yet very much real realization hits him with the full force of decades of denial. 

Patrick must’ve noticed Pete’s sudden reluctance, because his hand stops wandering over Pete’s skin, which is both a relief and terrifying. Because Pete doesn’t actually want him to stop, and he really _should_ want Patrick to stop. That he doesn’t want Patrick to stop touching him, that he wants to kiss Patrick’s lips again, and again, and again, and then kiss the rest of his body, that he wants Patrick to take him to bed and then wake up to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and maybe every other day for the foreseeable future as well, that’s just, that’s - 

_Oh._

“You okay?” Patrick asks gently, and he brushes his thumb over Pete’s cheek, a tender, careful touch. “Sorry, I just… We can take it slow.”

Pete has heard him, though he hasn’t understood a single word of what he just said, because there’s only one thought on his mind. 

“What the fuck,” Pete only whispers, and the truth finally settles in, a heavy weight on his chest as he utters the words he’s been avoiding for so many years. “I’m actually _gay_!”

Confused, Patrick furrows his brows. “Uh, what?”

“I’m actually gay,” Pete repeats, and it feels wrong to say, yet so strangely true. “No way! This is not - this wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“What do you mean, this wasn’t supposed to happen?” Still confused, and growing more and more irritated, Patrick withdraws to the other end of the couch. “ _You_ asked me out on this date in the first place!”

“Of course I asked you out, but only to prove I’m not gay!”

Anger has replaced all previous adoration in Patrick’s expression. “Pete, what the hell! Is this all just some sort of sick joke to you?! Catfish the stupid gay guy at work to see if he’s dumb enough to fall for it?” 

“No,” Pete hurries to answer. His head is spinning, and he’s torn between hysterical laughter, screaming, or breaking down crying. “Don’t you get it? I didn’t want any of this! It’s just - fuck, this just went totally _wrong_!”

Patrick doesn’t answer him. The silence between them is heavy and tense and uncomfortable enough to make Pete wince. Slowly, Patrick gets up from the couch, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are as ice-cold as his voice when he says: “I think you should leave.”

Utterly numb, Pete gets up as well. Fleeing this horrible scene seems like the best option indeed. He has to get away from Patrick, has to get away from whatever one-off mistake his stupid fucking brain has gotten him into. Meanwhile, Patrick has turned away from him, and Pete is thankful that he doesn’t have to face Patrick right now - he’s sure he couldn’t meet his eyes again, perhaps, ever. 

Pete only notices he’s trembling when it takes him far too long to put on his sneakers, and only notices he’s crying when he wipes over his face. The culmination of countless self-doubts about his sexuality is one final act of cowardice as Pete leaves Patrick’s apartment without so much as saying goodbye. 

  
  


At home, Pete can’t find any rest, much less sleep. Sprawled out on his bed, he stares at the ceiling. Denial, as much as Pete craves it, has become impossible after tonight. What scares Pete is that nothing much even happened, it was just a regular date, there was a kiss, a few touches, and yet… The way they kissed felt so serious, and Pete doesn’t even have the alcohol or attention to excuse any of it. The way Patrick touched him wasn’t just some innocent exploring, and Pete has craved more, so much more, he’s wanted Patrick’s hand below his belt - in his pants, preferably - no, on his dick, to be exact. The reason that once more, Pete hasn’t gone any further is not because he didn’t want to, it’s because he wanted it too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with any of this. 

Pete is ashamed that he’s left like that, as if Patrick had wronged him in any way - which he hasn’t, quite the opposite: Pete has asked him out on a date with ulterior motives, and then acted like an utter fool. What if Patrick hates him now, what if he really believes Pete is just some homophobic asshole who wanted to make fun of him? 

Because that’s not what Pete is, absolutely not. He doesn’t have a problem with anyone being gay, never has, he’s not some kind of homophobic bigot. While Pete is sure of that, realization slowly dawns on him: He doesn’t have a problem with anyone _else_ being gay - but it’s clear he has a problem with admitting his own attraction to men. 

Coldness seeps into Pete’s chest. As weird as it seems, it makes sense, in a strange, twisted way. Perhaps, that’s the explanation for the shame he’s felt, the denial he’s maintained, the reason he never went any further with a man? _Fear_ has ruled over that part of him ever since he can remember, has made Pete be too scared to even really question his attraction to the same sex. And with him being attracted to women, Pete never really had to; hadn’t it just been easier to play the heterosexual, anyways? 

Fear is definitely still holding Pete’s heart in a stranglehold, but for the first time, it doesn’t make Pete want to give up - it makes him angry. Is that what he wants his life to be like, hiding and denial, missing out on love just because he’s scared?

Pete thinks back to Patrick. While he isn’t sure if Patrick ever wants to try being friends with him ever again, he doesn’t want them to part ways like that. Patrick deserves to know the truth, even if Pete isn’t particularly proud of it. Pete sits up, grabs his phone from the nightstand. He stares at the screen for several minutes, types and types and deletes his message, types again, before he finally hits send. 

_i’m really sorry about tonight. it’s complicated. can we talk?_

Pete hates himself a little for such a cliche choice of words, but he can’t think of anything else to say. He stares at the screen, but of course, nothing happens. Having to wait for an answer from Patrick feels like pure tortue - _if_ Patrick is ever going to answer. 

With a sigh, Pete leans back into the mattress. He thinks about how just a few hours ago, he’s wanted to share a bed with Patrick, and definitely not in a platonic way. Pete isn’t sure what exactly it is he wants, he just knows he _wants_ it, wants _Patrick_ , wants to taste his lips, wants to see him naked, wants to find out what he’s been missing out on all these years he has spent denying his attraction to men. 

Maybe, Pete is just gay for Patrick, is that a thing? But the more Pete thinks about it, the more ridiculous that sounds. It’s not that Patrick is some weird exception to Pete’s heterosexuality, he isn’t some magic creature to curse Pete into being attracted to him and him alone, Pete feels attracted to him because Patrick is a guy, and, well, fuck - Pete is attracted to men. 

Well, Pete thinks not without bitterness, he’s found the answer he’s been looking for, it’s just not the one he wanted. So far, all Pete has had were relationships with girls before, are all his previous feelings no longer valid? Has his whole life just been one big mistake? That can’t be, it just can’t. 

How is he going to explain that to Joe? How is he going to explain any of this to his other friends, to his parents, to _anyone_? They’re going to talk about him, there will be looks and sneers and gossip and maybe even worse, much worse things. 

With another sigh, Pete turns around, rests his head on his arms. It’s only now he realizes he’s still wearing Patrick’s hoodie. It’s warm and soft and smells like Patrick, which only makes Pete’s heart ache even worse. 

The hours pass by; Pete barely notices how the light of a new day lights up his bedroom. 

Pete’s phone buzzes, and it takes him a moment to work up the courage to look at the screen. Finally, an answer from Patrick. 

_Fine. Let’s talk._

  
  
  


When Pete knocks on Patrick’s door, it feels nothing like yesterday. Pete knows he looks like a mess, he barely slept, hasn’t showered, and threw on the next-best clothes. Instead of flowers and hope, Pete only holds Patrick’s hoodie, neatly folded, in his hands. 

Patrick wears sweatpants and his glasses, and doesn’t look like he slept much either. There’s no excited gleam in his eyes, and his lips are pressed into a thin line as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. 

The silence is deafening.

Pete has spent half the night thinking about the perfect words, the most eloquent explanation, and yet, all he manages to bring out is: “Patrick, I’m so sorry…!” 

Whatever else Pete has wanted to say is replaced by choked-out sobbing. Pete isn’t much of a crier, and he hates himself a little for it, hates being so weak, but he can’t stop the pesky tears. Perhaps, it’s the price to pay for years and years of not allowing himself to feel what he so desperately didn’t want to feel. 

Patrick uncrosses his arms, and his expression softens. He doesn’t say anything, just gently gestures Pete to come inside. And Pete is grateful for it, he’s so thankful that Patrick doesn’t scream or yell at him, doesn’t prod or pry or ask a million questions. Patrick just pats his shoulder, and when Pete only sobs harder, Patrick takes him into his arms. He’s careful, like he expects Pete to break away at any moment, but that’s the furthest thing from Pete’s mind. The hug feels comforting, doubly so from Patrick, and Pete just lets go and cries for a while. Patrick holds him, mumbles soothing words, pats his back, until Pete finally feels able to form a coherent sentence again. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles in between sobs, “‘s okay, I’m good. It’s just…”

Pete doesn’t finish the sentence, but he doesn’t have to. Patrick nods, takes a step back, his hand still on Pete’s shoulder. “It’s fine,” he says in a gentle, calming voice, “really, Pete, it’s fine.”

Nothing seems fine to Pete, but he doesn’t have the energy to point that out to Patrick. He just nods, and sniffles a little. “I’m sorry. For everything,” he whispers instead, more to himself than to Patrick. 

“Yesterday wasn’t just a lie then?” Patrick sounds so small and insecure when he says that, it makes Pete want to hug him forever. “What you said, what you did, everything… It wasn’t all just an _act_ , was it?” 

Pete takes a deep breath as well as a moment to think about his answer. “No, it wasn’t,” he says after a while. “I wanted it to be, because I didn’t want to admit that I was attracted to you. I thought I could just pretend, but - I never could. What I feel for you isn’t just pretense, and when I kissed you - everything about that was _real_.” 

Patrick nods thoughtfully, even though his eyes don’t meet Pete’s. Pete still wants to hug him, maybe even kiss him again, but neither seems appropriate. Instead, Pete holds out the hoodie, stammers: “I, uhm. I forgot to give this back.”

“Thanks. And well, I guess I still have your Smiths LP laying around…” Patrick trails off, and Pete is scared that this is already the awkward end of a relationship they never even got to have.

It isn’t, not yet at least. Patrick gestures towards the living room, and soon, they sit together on the fateful couch. Pete sits down at the other end, and while the distance between them feels awkward and painful, Pete doesn’t dare to come closer. He notices that the flowers he gave to Patrick are still standing on the table, traitorous evidence of his dumb idea. 

“You still wanna talk?” When Pate just nods, Patrick sighs. “Well… You’re not the first guy to freak out about being gay.”

“See, that’s the thing. I’m not _really_ gay,” Pete blurts out in an attempt to explain himself, “I like _women_ , too.”

Patrick sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Alright then. You know, the word you might be looking for is bisexual.”

With a slight frown, Pete shakes his head. He’s not an idiot, he knows the word bisexual and what it means, and it sounds so… So _negative_. It sounds like a title from a bad threesome porn, it sounds like people who cheat, it sounds like people who can’t commit. Worst of all, it sounds like Pete being an indecisive coward in denial again, and that’s not who Pete wants to be any more.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, which causes Patrick to frown slightly. 

“Pete, look. I’m not going to tell you what to call yourself. I just want you to realize that it’s perfectly fine being attracted to men _and_ women.”

“I want to believe you, I really do.” Pete makes a helpless gesture with his hands. “It’s just… Why me, and why do I have to deal with this now? I’m too old for this shit, and I’m _normal_ most of the time.”

Pete knows he’s rambling and might not be saying the right things, he’s nervous and tense and overwhelmed with everything; he thinks himself lucky that Patrick is so calm and patient with him. 

“There is no such thing in life as normal.” A small smile spreads over Patrick’s face. “I think that’s what Morrissey sang.”

Half-relieved, half-amused, Pete finds himself smiling back. He feels more word bubbling up, more pointless rambling ready to be released without thought, so to distract from his own issues, Pete asks: “What about you? How did find out you are gay?”

Patrick shrugs. “I never really doubted my sexuality. I just always knew I like men.”

“Lucky you,” Pete mumbles not without a bit of self-pity.

“Yeah, lucky me,” Patrick repeats with a scoff, and without his former patience. “I have to buy one less birthday present, because my dad still doesn’t talk to me. And growing up as the awkward gay guy with a temper was always so awesome.”

His words make Pete wince. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

For a while, neither of them speaks. At least the silence doesn’t feel as awful as it did yesterday. Patrick takes a deep breath, and it dawns on Pete that this might not be so easy for him either. Not only do their experiences differ quite a bit, it just feels like Patrick is already so far ahead, so much more confident in who he is (and has been for a long time), while Pete is still struggling through the early stages of self-acceptance. 

“Don’t be sorry. We both have our struggles, don’t we?” Patrick says eventually, and Pete is relieved that he doesn’t seem angry at Pete’s cluelessness and confusion. “You don’t need to worry, I won’t out you or anything, and I’m the last person to judge you. If you need a friend, if you need support, if you want to talk, I’m here for you. If you don’t want any of that, that’s fine, it’s your decision. And I know what kind of courage it takes to come out of the closet.” 

Pete nods, because he doesn’t know what else to do, much less what else to say. 

Patrick pauses, and hesitates, before he adds with a sigh: “Hell, if I had been into women, I’m not sure I would’ve been brave enough to explore my attraction to men.” 

In the silence that follows, Pete can hear the blood rush through his veins, can hear his heart beat too fast as his face heats up. Patrick looks a little uncomfortable, and while Pete can’t blame him, it makes Pete feel even worse - now he’s managed to drag another person into his personal mess. 

“Pete,” Patrick says his name with a calmness and patience that Pete doesn’t feel worthy of, “I’m not going to pressure you into anything. But, for your own sake, for your own happiness, ask yourself: What do you want?”

Indeed, the dreaded question still remains: What _does_ Pete want? It’s the question he didn’t dare to ask for so long, because he didn’t want to think about the answer and the uncomfortable consequences. 

But right here, right now, in front of sweet, gentle Patrick, after a sleepless night of self-doubts and longings, rebellion rules Pete’s uncertain heart. 

“I want to be myself, even if that’s going to be difficult. I’m tired of hiding.” Pete is surprised at his own boldness, and even more surprised that he means every word he says, without any doubt or regret. Encouraged by that, Pete decides to not hold back what else it is he longs for. “And I want _you_. I want to be with you. As a friend, if that is what you prefer, but - also _more_ , if you want that, too…”

Flustered, Pete manages a nervous smile. His hands are shaking, his heart is still racing, though it’s mostly excitement now that he released the words that had been sleeping deep inside of him for years. Is it that easy, are a few words enough to overcome all his old fears? It isn’t, it won’t be, but it’s a first step forward, one of many, and no matter how difficult it might be and how many times he will have to take a step back, Pete knows this is the right way for him. 

Patrick leans in closer, takes Pete’s hand into his; it’s a small, but meaningful gesture, it’s enough to make Pete feel like a lovesick teenager again. He wants, he wants this, he wants Patrick, wants it all so badly it makes his head spin.

“I actually wanted to ask _you_ out first. I was just too scared. I was so happy when you wanted me to be your Valentine’s day date…” Patrick lets out a small chuckle. “Well then, let me ask you out _now_ : Do you want to try this again, and go on another date?”

“Absolutely,” Pete answers without any hesitation, “and this time, I’m gonna do it right.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Patrick says, which reminds Pete of something that dampens his euphoria. 

“We have to figure it out. _I_ have to figure it out, because I don’t have any experience at this.” Which is true, though Pete isn’t just worried about his lack of experience in the gay dating world, but also about his lack of experience regarding sex with men. Sudden uncertainty makes Pete nervous once more. Patrick is so far ahead in so many ways, and Pete is so behind. It’s going to take a lot of time and patience, and the silent question Pete doesn’t dare to voice is if Patrick really wants to go through all that trouble for him - if Pete is really worth it. 

“That’s fine, we will take it slow. I mean it, Pete. We will take our time, figure things out together,” Patrick only says as he laces their fingers together. He sounds honest, and Pete is sure that Patrick isn’t the type to lie, isn’t someone who’d just throw around promises like that without meaning them. That’s not the final word on the issue, it’s not going to be easy despite Patrick’s optimism. But for the first time in a long time, Pete feels hope - and feels the first traces of love starting to blossom in his heart.

“So. Bisexual, huh,” Pete mumbles, to see how the word feels on his tongue, to test how it makes him feel. He’s not quite sure yet. 

Patrick raises his brows. “It’s not a dirty word, you know.”

Again, Pete really wants to believe him, but it’s still difficult to just disregard all previous difficulties and doubts. Pete sighs, and admits: “Well, I feel like I don’t know anything.”

Gently, Patrick squeezes his hand, and Pete knows there’s more they could talk about, more to discuss, so many words left unsaid, so many things Pete doesn’t know how to say just yet. Patrick must know that, too. But for now, Patrick doesn’t elaborate, and the slight tension vanishes when he smirks a little, and only answers: “I’m sure I can teach you a thing or two.”

Pete wants to smirk back at him, wants to say something funny and clever, something romantic perhaps; he forgoes words in favor of leaning in for a kiss. And fuck, it feels just as good, if not better than yesterday - yes, Pete could kiss Patrick forever. 

It’s Patrick who reluctantly breaks the kiss. “Wait. The date. I meant it, Pete - let me take you out, we’ll get something to eat, do something fun…”

“I’m having plenty of fun already,” Pete argues, and while Patrick laughs, he does get up from the couch, holds out his hand to Pete. 

“Let’s get some food at least, I’m starving. And maybe, we can go to the record store again, I’ll buy us something of quality to listen to, we argue about music, and I’ll shut you up with a kiss.”

Pete doesn’t even care that he looks like a total mess, forgets his troubles of his newfound sexuality at least for now, at least for a little while. No, Pete laughs as well, and takes the offered hand. “Sounds like a wonderful plan.”

Whatever it is that lays ahead of them, whatever life may hold in store, the good things and the bad things, right here, right now, Pete knows it’s worth fighting for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I myself have a lot of (unsolved, ha...) issues when it comes to my own sexuality, so of course, I had to write a fic about it. I have a lot more to say on the topic, and who knows, one day I might write another fic about it... 
> 
> Don't forget to check out all the other amazing fics in this collection!~


End file.
